Attempted Happiness
by AbominableDante
Summary: The lovestory at the very end of the Marauding days and beginning of the new era of hope in the Wizarding world.


**Author's Notes: **Written and edited during seventeen playings of 'Here In My Room', by Incubus.

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**Warnings: **Yaoi goodness. Angst. Spoilers.

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**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter or the boys, but God if I could I so would. And then I'd make them have sex at my leisure. (dreamy sigh)

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**Attempted Happiness

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**

He was like moonlight. He was dark and silver and so distant, even during sex. They would lie together and wait for dawn, but they could've been a universe away.

He rather think he liked it that way. It hurt him somewhere in his heart, his chest ached for him, but they were somehow protected from ever really emotionally injuring one another.

And yet…

He was scrambling eggs when he came down. He'd overslept, but gave an apologetic kiss to the other and sat down to read the mail and paper. A plate full of egg and a cup of tea was set before him and he looked up when the other turned to leave.

"Remus?" he asked, curious. The other man rarely ever left his side during the day. The brunette paused long enough to smile enigmatically and was gone, locked in his study with the loud sounds of his typewriter.

Oh, that was it. He was writing again. 'Earning his keep' he often liked to say, when he spoke at all.

Since sixth year, since Snape's almost murder and his exposure to Hogwarts and the Wizarding World, Remus very rarely deigned anything worth speaking about to any of his friends. He didn't even speak to his editor when he could help it. He never left the house but to go to the shed in the back yard every full moon and he never kept very good health.

Sirius stayed with him, though, as his best friend and his blood bound lover. He stayed to keep Remus alive. Who knew what he'd do to himself or others if he was left to his own devices very long.

Since that event Remus had been depressed to the point of suicide, a like he hadn't seen since the other Marauders had found out during their second year. Remus had been terrified then, of hurting them, of hurting others that he would do anything, even leave Hogwarts to save them.

Now, though, Remus had changed. Remus had grown up and listened to the vicious voice of the wolfish half that reigned his dreams. Remus was a little more than crazy.

The Wizarding World wanted him either dead or in Azkaban, but could do nothing about either until he had initiated something. Remus was crafty. He got away with everything he did because of his innocent façade.

Remus was anything but innocent.

Remus was debauched and cruel, violent and destructive and unreasonable in fights. He was purely instinctive, moved only by selfishness and lacking any empathy for all humans but his one companion. Remus, unlike the legend of his name, was the evil twin that would begin a new empire on the blood of his brother.

Remus had murdered his real twin the night he was bitten and changed. He'd never gotten over it.

But if Sirius came home from a bad day, he would find a warm bath drawn for him, supper already served and hot and waiting, and an entirely gracious man waiting for him. He let Remus spoil him and wondered how he seemed to know before Sirius even walked through the door, before he left the office.

The paper in the other room ripped off the reel and the clacking of keys began anew a moment later. Must've been a productive day, he thought as he drank his tea and read the paper. He flipped to the funnies and laughed though their punch lines were stale. He needed to laugh in this dark age. He needed a reason to laugh though James and Lily and Harry, his godson, were holed up in Merlin-knew-where, waiting for Voldemort to show up. He needed to laugh though he suspected little Peter of devious things, more devious than he had formerly assumed. He needed to laugh now that he knew his lover was a little mad.

Remus had predicted something dark in his dreams, deep within the writhing and screams of his nightmares. They came more often now, the horrible dreams that frightened Sirius and tortured Remus in both body and mind. The pallor in his face arrived not long after the dreams and his appetite took a hike out the door, no matter what Sirius did to help him.

Sirius felt helpless when he shook Remus awake, when he held the shivering man until he stopped babbling, stopped crushing his arms tight around him and fell softly back into his sleeping hell. He'd tried draughts, but they didn't seem to work long enough. Remus refused them, refused to be addicted.

Remus was getting arthritic already, from so many changes. Some days he could barely move for the pain in his hips, like an old dog. Those were days he could barely write in his book. Those were days Sirius tended to him and gave him all the Muggle painkillers he would accept. With his metabolism, the medications wore off quickly, but Wizard doctors refused to give him anything magical.

Sometimes Dumbledore would slip Sirius something at the Order meetings, something that would help Remus sleep or lessen his pains when they came, but the doses were always somehow too small. They always ran out too quickly.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready for work?" Remus said quietly, suddenly back from the study. Funny, Sirius couldn't remember the key-clacking stop and the creak of the study door when it opened.

Remus, though crazy, was still a silent predator when he wanted to be.

Smooth, pale arms slid over his shoulders and looped gently around his chest, hands clinging to his biceps. Remus's mouth was at his ear, nipping affectionately at his hair as he breathed in his scent, tasted his thoughts and emotions. Like an animal, he recognized base feelings; anger, fear, joy, sadness and apathy.

Sirius sighed and set his tea cup down on the newspaper, having misplaced the saucer in the pile or discarded articles on the table.

"What day is it?"

"Wednesday."

"Do you have the grocery list?" Sirius asked, then laughed when Remus held it up to his face. He folded it into his jeans pocket and got up slowly enough for Remus to unwind from him. Sirius turned and gave him a swift kiss on his lips, a squeeze on his shoulder, then went to get his coat and hat at the door.

"Be careful, Sirius?" Remus asked, much to his surprise. Remus rarely ever tool notice of his leavings.

He paused to watch the other man's dark eyes. There was certain knowing there.

"Do you know something?"

The fine brows curved down and together, a thin lip bit between sharp canines. Pale fingers wound and unwound and wound again in worry.

"The Order…All of this actually, is going to end soon."

Sirius smiled, hoping against all hope that this was a good thing for their side.

Remus only watched him, passive as he bent down to snuffle against his neck.

"I'll be careful," he promised.

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"He's getting stranger and stranger. I'm afraid of letting him come and see Harry. I don't know what he'd do," Sirius said over his lunch, a sandwich and banana he'd bought at a small deli within the Muggle bounds of London. James was with him, decked out in black jeans and sweater and his black hair tousled by the early Fall wind. The other man only chewed thoughtfully.

"Probably nothing. He'd not the sort to hurt friends. We're practically family."

Sirius didn't mention Remus's brother. He figured that was below the belt.

"How's his book coming?" James asked, desperately curious for the next installment in the werewolf's trilogy. Under his pen name, it had become a smash hit between both Muggles and Witches. The 'Fangs' books were an exact mix of romantic suggestion, fact and history that somehow made the werewolves of the world seem a little less evil and yet still otherworldly.

To Sirius, Remus was otherworldly, but not at all in the pleasant way his books described. To Sirius, Remus was both dangerous and utterly tempting. To Sirius, Remus was a madman.

"He's unstoppable," Sirius said with mock excitement, trying to keep his friend's spirits up. There was no reason to tell him anything depressing. James needed as much good news as he could get, with the life he and his family were living now, with the fear they dealt with hourly.

"He should be finished within the week, then he and his editor will get to work. Seems he's going to make deadline."

"Spledid!"

Sirius only smiled and bit into his sandwich.

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He loved Remus's massages. The man somehow managed to purr in a way that relaxed him and his strong hands practically melded all his troubles until he felt he resembled mush. The man started at his feet, picking his shoes, then his socks off and twisting his toes individually between his sharp fingers. He would smooth the soles of his foot, then kneed all his joints and ankles until he lost all feeling there. Then he would work his way up his legs, from his calves to his knees to his thighs to his hips to his stomach and chest. He would smooth down his shoulders and arm to his hands, detailing patterns carefully as Sirius would sigh and groan, utterly relaxed.

Then Remus would roll him over and do his back, from his shoulders to his back to his butt to his legs and feet. He would press his thumbs deep against his spine and stay there until the knots of the day unwound, his calloused hands gentle as they stroked along his back and neck, through his hair.

He was usually too tired for sex after that. Surely he was aroused, Remus was a very beautiful, sensual being, but he was already more than half asleep when the other man was finished. Remus accepted it with a smile and went to sleep against him, his nose pressed into his shoulder blades or against his stomach. Remus really wasn't all that interested in sex when it wasn't mating season anyway, found the practice merely an necessity of instinct and not the pleasurable relaxation device Sirius often thought of it as.

Merely a way to preserve his race, though he knew they'd never have a product of their endeavors, thank Merlin. Werewolves were forbidden to have children by Wizarding law. The strain, the virus was known to pass from parent to child, even though it was recessive. Grandchildren who picked up the trait could still display the werewolf virus…

Remus was settling down now, against his chest and allowing Sirius to trap him in his arms, one hand on his hip and the other in his hair, stroking the soft hair there as he drifted to sleep. Remus only purred, a rumbling in his chest that stirred warmth in his groin out of habit. Remus noticed and indulged Sirius with a tired laugh and a gentle squeeze that made his breath hitch.

They fell asleep easily, comfortable in each others company and their own marooned thoughts. It seemed like seconds later when Sirius was shaken awake by Remus's thrashings. The other man was screaming, his head thrown back to expose his throat in submission, his pointed fangs bright in the moonlight in his wide open mouth. The words that spilled from his tongue were pleading, begging, and his hooked hands clawed at the bed and his own skin. He rolled over and tried to crawl away from whatever torture he was dreaming, a pillow meeting its demise at the end of his fingers.

"Please…God no…Anything but him…Take me, but not him…I'll give you anything, my blood, my life, my soul, just leave him be! Let him live safe…Please God…Anything but him…"

And then:

"Somebody help them…Someone do something! Save them! They're doomed…Oh dear God, save them. Harry…Harry…Someone save Harry!"

And then:

"Lily, take Harry and go! I'll hold them off as long as I can, just run! Please, don't hurt my son! Kill me, but don't hurt Harry…Oh God!"

He screamed again, the pitch of it loud enough to make the neighbors dog howl pitifully, as if it too were dying, as if they were dying together. Sirius shuttered and struggled to shake Remus awake. He slapped him, shouted at him, dumped water on his head, but nothing would stop the tirade of nighttime horrors. Sirius sat back on the bed and watched, tears streaming down his cheeks as he tried to wake Remus.

And as soon as it began, it ended. Remus's eyes snapped open, reflecting the poor light like a cat's. His face was pale and streak with tears, his throat rough when he sobbed. Sirius quickly gathered the man to him, held him tightly as he wept.

Dawn was coming, gray sky bleeding into the night. Then the sun came, red in her murderous dress as she set her sister moon to rest. The sky was heavy with rain clouds already. It was only a little while before the torrent would come.

Remus was still shaking, but had fallen silent hours ago. Sirius's eyes were heavy, black bruises of sleeplessness around the gray-blue of his irises. His muscles were taunt and knotted. The massage and the peace they'd shared seemed like years ago.

He was stroking Remus's hair, doing his best to soothe the lanky arms into relaxation again, but the other man silently refused to be comforted. This dream, this night, was somehow worse then all the rest.

His alarm clock went off and they both jumped. Sirius snapped it off and cursed at it under his breath. Remus was dressing when he turned back to him, snapping his pants closed and pulling his shirt from yesterday out of the laundry. He didn't even bother to sniff at it to make sure it was acceptable. His day old beard stood out dark against his face, though the hair was Remus's sandy brown.

"Remus…"

"I'm sorry," the other man snapped quickly, then went to the door. He looked withered somehow, his shoulders hunched against a pain, his head lowered and submissive reminiscence to his dream.

He was gone before Sirius could even think about calling him back. He stayed in his study while Sirius got ready to leave, though he didn't hear the keys clacking.

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Sirius grabbed the phone from the secretary and gave a short hello into the receiver.

"They're going to die," Remus's voice buzzed on the other line. Sirius felt his stomach tighten and his knees go weak.

"Rem-"

"Don't speak. This line is tapped. I can hear the clicking. Just listen," Remus voice said softly, yet commanding his every nerve to attention, "I know the end of everything. You can't change it no matter what you do. Pass off the secret keeping to someone else like you have planned or don't, either way it won't change. It can't change. If it does _His_ reign of terror will continue. Some need to die to create our savior."

Remus thought Harry was their savior?

Maybe he should've had him checked into the asylum when Remus had first brought it up…

Maybe he was right…

He opened his mouth to speak, but the other line was only dial tone. He handed the phone back to the secretary and shivered.

"Are you all right? You turned stone dead white just now," the woman asked.

"No. I'm not," Sirius replied and headed for the door.

He had to get to Remus. He had to get to James or Lily or Peter…

He had to tell someone and he had to get Remus to tell him this to his face. Yet he knew somehow that the man was right.

He stopped by a phone booth and dialed James's phone number, knowing Lily was at home. He told her he was coming over and apparated to the front door in time for her to open it for him. She was all smiles at his arrival, but sensed something else in his air that snatched her smile away.

Harry, the adorable little toddler was throwing blocks at the cat, missing widely. The cat barely noticed at all.

"Sirius…This is unexpected…"

"It's Remus. I think he's gone straight off the deep end. He keeps making predictions and having these nightmares and I don't think I can take it anymore," he said quickly, all of it coming out in a rush, "He thinks you and James are going to die..."

"And Harry?" she asked, a terrified look in her eye.

Sirius paused…

"Harry…I think he's going to be okay…"

The boy on the floor looked up at them at the sound of his name and giggled. Lily bent down to hug him and smiled back at Sirius.

"As long as Harry is all right…" she said, "Go back to Remus. He sounds like he needs you to take care of him."

"Lily, you and James need to leave! Now, as far as you can go!"

"We're not going anywhere," Lily said, indignation in her voice.

Sirius looked on helplessly…

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Weeks later he was still looking on helplessly, the wreckage of the house still smoking and the crying boy in his arms reaching for it as if he were reaching for his demise as well. He shushed him, patted his hair and pleaded with him, but his own tears wouldn't stop running down his face. He couldn't think, he could barely breathe.

They were gone. James and Lily, his best friends since his childhood…Gone forever.

Voldemort was gone too. Apparently dead because of one little boy, Remus's savior, the world's fucking Messiah.

Hagrid showed up sometime around midnight, thirty minutes after it all and Sirius handed the boy over to him with a gentle kiss on Harry's forehead. He gave him his motorcycle as well and apparated home to the wreckage of Remus's mourning. The man was laying against the kitchen table, hiccupping between breaths and a bottle of hard liquor in his hand. He barely looked up when Sirius picked him up bridal style and carted him off to bed.

"I'm going to kill Peter, now," he whispered as he smoothed his fingers over Remus's frail jaw, "But you knew that, didn't you?"

"Don't go," Remus pleaded, his fingers clutching into his robes, his voice broken, "Please, God, Don't go. Stay here…we can leave…we can go to New Orleans or…or…Amsterdam…Stay with me, Sirius. Stay with me!"

Sirius only shushed him and pulled his fingers off of him. He was at the door when Remus tried again, desperate eyes brimming with new tears.

"I love you, Sirius," Remus begged, "Can't you bleeding see it! For the love of God stay here or Peter is never going to pay for what he's done."

"I will make him pay!" Sirius roared. He pointed to his chest, "I'll tear him apart and I'll make him beg like he made them beg! I'll kill him!"

Remus only watched him, resignation in the set of his shoulders now. Submission in his eyes…

Sirius left, slamming the front door behind him.

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Remus was right about everything. Mad prophet that he was, he knew all along. He'd tried his best to save them, but there was nothing to be done in the end, was there?

Sirius sat in his cell and watched the full moon shine through the bars of the glassless window on the floor. He imagined he could hear Remus's howls to the wretched moon. He imagined life with the other man, when they'd attempted to make one another happy.

There was no happiness in the real world. Everything was a brief flicker of pleasure, so easily snuffed out. Remus knew it all along. Remus had tried to protect them.

Sirius was just another pawn to fate.

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_Fin Attempted Happiness_

_Please review

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**Author's End Notes:** You crying yet?


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